Full Circle
by LaurenCat
Summary: Now complete! A little S/V romance to brighten your day. Pre Phase One, Syd and Vaughn may find a way to be together, but at what price?
1. Emotional Involvement

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Disclaimer: Sorry to disappoint you, but these characters aren't mine. I know, I know, you thought I was JJ Abrams, didn't you? Or someone from ABC or Touchstone Television? But I'm not. I wish I was in on it, but I'm just a lowly fan, writing some fiction. So don't sue me.

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Rating: I'm gonna go with PG-13. Maybe a smidgen higher. In Ontario we have 14A, which may be more fitting. A little sexually themed stuff, but nothing too bad. Also, be forewarned that this story is full of 'shippy fluff and fluffy 'ship. 

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Author's Note: Okay kids, I went through and edited the whole thing. I updated all the chapters, taking out the author's notes at the beginning of each one, seeing as they aren't really necessary now that the whole story is posted. I also want to say **THANK YOU **to everybody who reads this and reviews. I really, really appreciate it. As stated, the whole story is here, so enjoy, and let me know what you think! 

Emotional Involvement

It was one thing when she came to him angry, or frustrated, or tired, or even happy and excited. But it was quite another thing when she came to him crying. That was when he found it the hardest to control himself, to not reach out to hold her and kiss her and dry her tears. Sometimes it was just easier to fight with her. If he was angry with her, or at least pretending to be, it was much easier to walk away. 

"Hey, Sydney." He slid down off the low wooden crate where he had been sitting as she entered, taking a few steps forward to meet her.

"What?" She snapped her head up, glancing around the dark warehouse, as if realizing for the first time where she was. "What did you say?"

"I just said hi. Is something wrong? You seem… distracted. And I've been waiting over a hour." His tone softened as he added, "I was worried." He smiled, but she looked away.

"You needn't have been." Her tone was cool. "I was at lunch with my father."

"Oh, I didn't realize. I'm sorry I interrupted. You could have said…"

"It's fine." She snapped, cutting him off.

He glanced quickly up at her, taken aback. "Are you sure everything is okay?"

"No, actually." Tears welled up in her eyes, and she turned away from him. His heart broke. "My father thinks I need a new handler. He wanted me to go with him to talk to Devlin this afternoon."

"Wha…"

"After Casablanca" she continued quickly, staring intently at her shoes "he thinks you, we, might be getting too… emotionally involved."

"Emotionally involved!" His head reeled. "Syd, you were almost killed in Morocco! Of course I may have broken a few rules, but it was to save your life. Isn't that their main focus, to keep their agents alive?" He waited for what seemed like minutes for her to turn, and raise her eyes to meet his before he continued. "What do you want, a handler who won't take a chance for you?"

"Vaughn…I…" she paused, glancing away from him again. 

"What, Sydney?" He wanted to go to her, and hold her, and tell her it would be all right, and they would get through it together. But he couldn't, so instead he got angry. "Damn it, look at me!" 

"I'm sorry." She wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. "I just don't want you to get in trouble. Over me."

He sighed. "But this is my job. You're my job." He turned, and walked away a few steps, running both hands through his hair. Was he too involved? Were his feelings for her clouding his judgment? He turned back to her, but she had moved away, as he had. "What did you say?"

She turned around quickly, staring at him blankly. "What?"

"To your father, I mean. What did you say to him?"

"I told him he was wrong."

"But…?" he prompted, knowing there was more.

"But nothing. I know you were just doing your job. You're good at what you do. Better than most. You care, and that's what I like about you." She sighed, and moved closer to him. "You make my job easier, just knowing your there, watching me. That you won't let me fall." She smiled up at him, and his heart melted. God he loved her. "I couldn't do it without you."

"You said all that to him?" he asked softly.

"Well, no, not exactly that." She gave a small laugh of recollection. "But I think he got the gist."

"Is he going to do anything then?"

"No, I think I talked him out of it. For now. You…, we'll, just have to be more… careful. That's all."

He didn't know why that made him angry, but it did. "But we're not doing anything wrong."

"No." She leaned her head back, running her hand over her hair to her neck, where it stayed. "No."

"So you want me to stop caring about you, looking after you, for no reason? You never want me to speak to you about anything other than counter-missions again?"

"Vaughn, no, I just don't think…"

"You know what Syd, I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?" He saw the hurt in her eyes, and was instantly sorry for his words, but it was too late. 

"All right, fine" she said coldly. She turned on her heel and quickly left the warehouse. 

With every sharp footstep his heart broke a little more. " Smooth, man, smooth. I am an idiot. I suck at this. I should be locked up, away from women, for the rest of my life" he mumbled in the darkness, rolling his eyes. Far away, the door shut with a dull thud, and he sat down heavily on a crate. 

***

Well, that certainly could have gone better, she thought to herself as she exited the warehouse. She turned, and for a split second, considered going back in, but decided against it. He needed to cool down. Besides, what would she say? She sat down heavily in her car, and closed her eyes. A single tear slipped down he cheek. Then, abruptly, she wiped her eyes and started the car. "I need ice cream. And a bubble bath." 


	2. The Flood

The Flood

It had been sunny when she entered the warehouse, but now, as she navigated home through the streets of LA, the early afternoon sun was muted by thick, menacing clouds. It was not long after she began to drive that big drops of rain began splattering her windows. 

"Mood weather" she grumbled. Why had she been so tough on him, on herself? "Because you ARE emotionally involved" she said aloud, and was startled at how loud her own words sounded in the empty car. She knew she loved him. She had known for a long time now. But it was how _he_ felt that was important to her now, even though it shouldn't have been. It was already causing problems, for both of them. But there was nothing she could do about it . There were times when she was oh-so-certain he felt the same way, like when he had rescued her in Casablanca, and looked at her with those eyes. But then there were others when she was not nearly so sure, like today. She knew it could never happen for them, and it scared her how much that hurt. It was loosing something she never had, but it devastated her. She knew it was affecting her job performance, and lately his, and she couldn't let it happen anymore. This thing with her father had to be a wake up call. If she couldn't see Vaughn anymore, even if it was just as a co-worker, she didn't know what she would do. 

It was pouring by the time she arrived home, and she was soaked as she entered the house. "Fran? Francie are you home?" she called, standing still inside the door. When no response came, she glanced down at her watch and realized it was only five after two. Francie wouldn't be home for hours. "Good" she sighed, feeling a bit guilty. It wasn't that she didn't love Francie, but right now she could use some time alone. She started peeling off her wet jeans as she walked down the hall to her room. She felt a little silly and laughed at herself as she changed into her most comfortable pair of pink flannel pajamas. "The life of a double agent" she giggled as she hung her damp clothes in the bathroom adjoining her room. "So tough." She glanced in the mirror, briefly frowning at her wet hair and streaked mascara. "Ice cream" she remembered, walking back into the kitchen. She scooped herself a little too much mint chocolate chip, and plunked down in front of the TV. After ten minutes of finding nothing but soaps, she turned the TV off dejectedly. She looked around the room. This is what she dreamt about, a normal, boring life, and now that she had an afternoon off she could think of nothing to do. "A bath" she decided. "A bath would be good." Stretching, she headed back into the bathroom and began filling the tub. She remembered her ice cream, and as she stood up to retrieve it, heard a knock at the door. "I wonder who that could be?" she mused, glancing at her pajamas. 

It took a lot to surprise her these days, but when she opened the door, she was genuinely shocked. "Vaughn!?" What…?" 

"Syd, I'm sorry," he cut her off. "I know this is breaking so many rules, but…"

"No, no, I'm just a little… come in." She moved aside, allowing him to enter. He glanced around the living room as she shut the door.

"Nice house."

"Thanks."

His eyes landed on her, and he gave a little laugh. "Nice PJ's." 

She blushed, glancing at the floor. "Thank you." She smiled up at him, and he smiled back. Her heat beat a little faster. "So what are you doing here?" He wouldn't risk coming to her house if it weren't important. "Is everything all right?" 

He saw the concern in her eyes, and shook his head quickly. "No, nothings wrong. Well, no, that's not true." He paused, rubbing his nose, then continued quickly. "Syd, I wanted, needed, to apologize for the warehouse. I don't know why I got so upset. I mean, I know why I got upset about not being your handler, but I don't know why I got angry with you. You said some really nice things about me, and, I'm sorry."

"No Vaughn" she grabbed his hand, but then dropped it quickly, shocked at herself. "It was my fault, I was being rude. I was upset at my father. And at myself" she added quietly. "I'm sorry. Now you've come all this way, and I feel horrible." She dropped her eyes, staring intently at her hands. He laughed then, and she had never been so glad to hear it. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What's so funny?" she was smiling now too, feigning annoyance.

"It's nothing, I was just thinking how I was sort of glad we had this fight."

"Why?" she stopped laughing, confused.

"Just because I finally got to see where you live" he grinned. And what you wear to bed, he thought to himself.

"Oh. I'm kind of glad about that too." They stared at each other, smiling slightly.

"Well, I guess I'd better be going." He started to turn toward the door.

"No! " she heard herself say, feeling quite surprised at her boldness. She moved in front of the door, blocking him in. "Since you're here, do you, maybe, wanna come in, have some ice cream, or something?" She smiled, blushing a little.

"You're not busy?"

"No." She shook her head. "I was just going to take a bath, relax."

"Oh" he raised his eyebrows slightly. "Well, I should just jump back into the shower then" he joked, gesturing to the rain out side with his thumb. 

"Oh, no" she whispered, staring past him. She moved slowly, as if in a trance, pushing past him with one arm. 

"Syd!" he said, slightly panicked "I was just kidding… a joke… about the rain. I didn't mean…" 

"No, Vaughn, I got it." She turned back to him. "I just remembered I left the tub running." She moved quicker now, through her bedroom, toward the bathroom. He watched her go, unsure if he should follow.

"Vaughn!" she squealed, popping her head around the door. "Help!" She disappeared back into the bathroom. He kicked off his shoes, hurried down the hall, and entered her bedroom. It was so her, simple and contemporary, but elegant. It smelled like her, and he breathed deeply.

"Vaughn?"

"Hmmm?" He snapped out of his daze. "What?"

"Grab some towels? Out of that cabinet." She pointed. "Hurry." 

He did. Grabbing as many towels as he could, he moved quickly back toward the bathroom. The floor was covered with water, and it was starting to spill form the tiles of the bathroom to the hardwood of the bedroom. He tossed her a towel, kept one for himself, and placed the rest on the counter. He knelt beside her, and was instantly soaked. Like he cared. 

"I am such a idiot" she groaned, pushing hair out of her eyes with a wet sleeve.

"No, this was definitely my fault. I distracted you." 

"Yeah." She raised her eyes to meet his. "Yeah, ya did." 

He had never seen anyone so beautiful as she was then, kneeling on the floor in sopping wet pajamas, hair in her face. They sat there, staring at each other for a second, an eternity. 

"Well, um" she cleared her throat, breaking the gaze, turning her attention to the floor. She then turned back to him, and noticed his wet clothes. "Oh, Vaughn, I'm sorry. You're all wet." She moved for a dry towel, and held it out to him. "I'm sorry."

"No problem" he smiled. "I had to park my car down the block, so I was kinda damp anyway." Instead of using the towel on himself, he lowered it to the floor, never taking his eyes off her. He rubbed the floor in wide circles, moving closer to where she knelt. "Besides, you're all wet too."

"But you're going to have to drive home like that. I live here, I can change. "

"Don't change." He was right beside her now. He reached up slowly, brushing the damp hair from her cheek. "I like this." He couldn't help it, being so closed to her like that. She was drawing him in. He had let his guard down, and now he was in trouble. He leaned forward and brushed her lips softly. She responded instantly, and they kissed deeply, with increasing passion, urgency. All too soon they broke apart, and he swallowed hard, sitting back on his haunches. His head spun, and he looked down at her. Now he'd done it… "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"Thank God" she whispered, not hearing his apologies. She smiled, slow at first, then wider. "Thank God." 

He was relieved to see she was smiling, that it hadn't been a mistake. "What?"

"I didn't know if you… I was never sure that you… ya know…" she studied her fingernails intently "felt… that way…"

"You didn't know?! " He laughed loudly "And you're supposed to be a genius?" She laughed then, too, as he continued "I always thought you could see right through me, but that you didn't think of me that way." 

"Oh, I've thought of you that way, believe…" 

He didn't let her finish. Instead, he caught her mouth in another kiss, then another. They moved together hungrily. He cradled her neck and wound his fingers through her hair. She stood, slowly, and he moved with her. His hands moved down over her shoulders until they reached the buttons of her flannel top. He began unbuttoning it slowly. She slid her hands under his damp sweater, pulling it quickly over his head, letting it splash to the floor. Her skin was on fire; her brain was on fire, as he kissed slowly down her neck. Her shirt slipped away. She turned and walked slowly backwards into the bedroom, pulling him after her. He stopped her before they reached the bed, breaking the kiss. 

"Yeah?" He asked raising one eyebrow and giving a sly half smile.

"Oh yeah" she whispered huskily, crawling backward onto the bed. She grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him with her. "Definitely."

***

She was awake before she opened her eyes. If this were another dream, she'd kill herself. She slowly opened one eye, then the other. He was lying close to her, watching her with a smile on his face. "Hey" she said with great relief, as her eyes were met by two of the most beautiful green ones she had ever seen. 

"Hey." He reached out and ran his thumb over her cheek. 

"Ummm." She caught his hand and kissed his knuckles. "What time is it?"

He rolled over, glancing at the clock on her night stand "five forty-five."

"What?" She was instantly alert. "Why didn't you wake me? Francie will be home any minute!" She moved to get out of bed, but he caught her hand and pulled her back.

"Francie called earlier, while you were asleep. Her mom," he scrunched up his face, trying to remember "or grandma, did… something, and she won't be home tonight."

"You answered the phone?" she gasped, shocked at his carelessness.

"The machine got it." He pulled her close to him, kissing her arm. "Relax."

"Okay" she whispered, sinking against him. "So, we have all night?"

"Yup" he nodded, smile growing. 

"Hungry?" she asked. 

"Nope."

"Want a bath?" she laughed, running a hand through his hair.

He laughed. "Maybe later." 

"What do you want to do then?" she asked, eyes shining.

"Well, there is one think I can think of." He smiled. "One thing I do want."

"Oh? What's that?" she asked innocently.

"You." He pulled the blanket over their heads, kissing her shoulder gently. "Just You."


	3. Don't Give Up

Don't Give Up

Blankets flying, they separated, breathing heavily. They both lay back, eyes closed. 

"Well" she gasped after a moment, turning towards him "I must say, I'm more convinced than ever that you must be the best handler at the CIA."

"How many CIA agents have you been handled by, exactly?" he asked, his breathing still strained.

"Stop it" she giggled, hitting him playfully. 

"Well, come on now" he said, pretending to be serious, "I think I deserve a straight answer. I can honestly say you're my one and only asset."

"Good" she pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him. "Good." They lay there silently, neither wanting to ruin the perfect moment. With a sinking heart, she realized it had to be done and spoke. "It's almost seven o'clock. I have to be at work in two hours. So do you."

"Mmmm, I know." He made no move to leave. "But that doesn't mean I have to want to go." His voice was soft and sad and he held her tighter.

"You know I don't want you to go Vaughn."

"Michael" he corrected, smiling into her hair.

"Michael" she said shyly, testing it out. "I like the way that sounds." She turned in his arms and pressed her lips to his, but broke the kiss before it led to anything else. "This has to be said, so I'll just say it." Her tone was serious. "We can't lets this affect our work. I could be assigned a new handler, or, more importantly, one or both of us could be killed if anyone found out. I don't know that I could handle loosing you like Danny." Her words tumbled out over each other, and her eyes filled with tears.

"Okay, baby, okay" he cooed. "Nothing' s going to happen. I won't let it." He held her in silence, then, slowly, "So do you regret this then?" He was terrified of her answer, but he had to know.

"Never" she said firmly. "Never in a million years could anything make me regret this. One night is nothing, really, but one night _everything_ compared to no night at all." 

He wanted nothing more than to make love to her again, but he knew he couldn't. Instead he kissed her quickly and detangled himself from her arms and legs and sheets, and moved toward the bathroom. 

As she watched him gather his clothes she could not remember a time she had felt happier. Just watching him pull on his pants filled her with such joy it scared her a little. She may never get to see him do that again. She swallowed, fighting back tears, and her voice only wavered a little when she called "Are they dry?"

"The pants are okay" he gave a low laugh "they landed in the bedroom. But my sweater was lying in a puddle all night." He held it up to show her. "Your floor is still kinda wet."

'Leave it here than" she gestured to the dripping sweater in his hand "I can sleep in it… if that's okay?"

He smiled. "Yeah, that's fine."

She slipped out of bed then, pulling a robe around herself. She moved toward the kitchen, then turned and called "you can used my toothbrush if you want" before disappearing through the door. 

"God she's perfect," he thought as he picked up the toothpaste.

"God he's perfect, " she thought as she switched on her coffee maker. 

As he left the bedroom he watched her puttering around the kitchen. This is what I want he thought. Just to be able to see her live. He leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen just watching her until she glanced up and noticed him. They both smiled, and stood looking at one another. 

"Do you, um, want some coffee, or something?" she asked, waving an empty mug in the air as she glanced around the kitchen for something else to offer. "Froot Loops, maybe?"

"Nah," he said, trying a little to hard to make it sound casual "I'd better get going."

"Right" she turned away, studying the floor. "Well, thanks for the shirt, and, I'll, um, see ya at work, later, I guess." 

He was suddenly right behind her, holding her. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she was crying. He rocked her gently. "One day I'll sit across this table from you, wearing no shirt, and you don't have to wear one either…" she gave a small, pained laugh and he continued. "And I'll eat Froot Loops, or whatever you want me to eat, and we'll talk about what we're going to do that day, and then we'll go out and do it, and love every minute of it." 

She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, and held him tighter than she had ever held anyone. He kissed her forehead, and then pulled away. He was halfway out the door when he paused, turned, and stared her right in the eye. "Don't give up on us Sydney." Then, as suddenly as he had entered, he was gone. 


	4. Half Truth

Half Truth

Francie arrived home around eight o'clock, entering the house just as Sydney walked into the living room carrying an armful of towels. "Hey Syd" she said wearily, tossing her purse on the couch. She eyed the towels suspiciously "what's all this?"

"Oh, hey Fran. Its nothing, I just flooded my bathroom last night." She continued towards the laundry room. "So what happened to your mom? Is she all right?"

"It was my _grandmother, _and she broke her hip. She'll be fine, but I had to stay with her last night, until my mom could fly in." 

"Oh, I'm sorry, that's too bad. How did she do it?" She made a mental note to send flowers. 

But Francie didn't hear her as she started towards Sydney's room. Sydney had just started filling the washing machine when Francie called out "Syd, whose shirt is this?" Sydney dropped the towels like they were on fire, and was in the bathroom where Vaughn's shirt was draped across the tub in two seconds flat. They both stared at it. 

"Oh that" Sydney said, a little too casually, nodding her head. "That's Will's. It's Will's shirt." 

Francie wasn't buying it. "That's not Wills. He would _never_ wear that." She grinned. "It's too nice." It was true. Sydney didn't say anything. "Why is it all wet?" Francie's eyes brightened then , and she turned to look at Syd. "Was someone else here when you flooded the tub?" 

Sydney was the best liar she knew. She spent her whole life lying. But now, when the only lie she could come up with was 'it's Danny's', she just couldn't bring herself to say it. So she told the truth. "It belongs to a coworker of mine." Okay, so it wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either.

"A coworker? Really?" Francie was instantly intrigued. "A coworker who's in your house, at night, who takes off his shirt, and that leaves it there. Where is it you work again?" She laughed.

"It isn't like that at all" Sydney began, not even fooling herself. "He came over last night just as I was drawing a bath for myself, to pick up an important file about work. We started talking about it, the file," she continued "and I forgot about the bath. He stayed to help me clean up, because he's a nice guy." Her voice sounded agitated, but she was smiling. "His shirt got wet…" she paused. 

"And?" Francie asked, rolling her eyes slightly.

"And…and…and her took it off and forgot it all right?" she finished quickly, staring at Francie with a challenging look in her eye.

"Okay, okay" Francie said skeptically. "So he's just a nice guy than?"

"Yeah" she said softly, a dreamy, faraway look coming over her face. "He's a really nice guy."

"You are the worst liar I have ever met" Francie laughed, playfully pushing her.

That was enough to get Sydney's attention, and she laughed out loud. If she only knew the half of it she thought, shaking her head.

"I'm serious Syd. I'm your best friend, but I'm certain a perfect stranger hearing this story would agree with me" she grinned, her eyes laughing "that that boy got more than a file last night."

There was absolutely nothing intelligent she could say to that, so she just stood there for a moment, before "yeah, okay, sure Francie. That's what happened. Just keep telling yourself that, and maybe it will come true." She knew she was making no sense, and sounded like a six-year-old. 

Francie was shocked. "Syd!" She had been pretty sure it was true, and Sydney' s reaction was the final nail in the coffin. "Are you honestly trying to tell me it's not true? And expect me to buy it? Do you think I'm stupid?"

She wasn't stupid. Sydney had never expected her to believe it. Right then all she wanted was to be able to tell her best friend how happy she was, for the first time in a long time. The man she was in love with loved her back. How she wanted to spend every moment with him, but she couldn't, and it was killing her. She wanted to hug her and, and cry with her, and giggle about a boy like they were in the sixth grade. But she couldn't. "Francie" she took her head "I don't think you're stupid. I think I'm stupid. This guy is just a good coworker friend. And it can never be more than that. Even if we both really wanted it to be." She looked at Francie with sad, almost pleading eyes. "Do you understand?"

"Yeah honey, I get it." She pulled her into a hug. "If you ever want to talk about it, thought, I'm always here."

"I know. Thank you." She didn't know what she would do without her. She pulled away, and hoped Francie didn't see her quickly wipe her eyes.

"I'm sorry Syd."

"No, it's okay. You're my best friend, and you're interested in my life. You had every right to ask. God knows I would have." She smiled sadly. "But it's just too complicated."

"I mean I'm sorry for you. And him, if he's anything like you."

"I'm sorry too." 

***

It was a few months later that the phone rang just as she was heading out the door to work. She leapt for it, hoping it was him. It was so hard seeing him everyday, and not being able to be with him, but she still cherished any moment she could get. "Hello?" she held her breath, waiting. 

"Sydney?"

She sighed. "Hi, Dad. What's up?"

"Sydney, we need to talk. It's important. Very important. Go to work like normal, but meet me for lunch at one thirty." 

"Okay. See you then." She hung up the phone. What the hell could this be about? Her life couldn't get much worse. She hoped. 


	5. Risky Business

Risky Business

Sydney entered the restaurant at exactly one thirty, and her father was already there. It was the same restaurant they always met at, a little Italian place tucked out of the way. The food wasn't bad, but was by no means great, and she didn't know why her father had suggested it in the first place. He stood as she approached, and stood silently as the waiter seated her. AS she sat he started to speak, making small talk about the weather, but she quickly cut him off. "Dad, what is this about? If you're still worried about Vaughn, I don't want to hear it…"

"This is not about Agent Vaughn. It's about you."

"Me?" Something about the tone of his voice worried her. 

"Sloane called me into his office yesterday. He thinks the CIA is getting too close to SD-6."

"And he thinks there's a mole?" She didn't know if she could survive another of Sloane's witch hunts. 

"No, it's nothing like that."

"He doesn't suspect me? Or you?"

"No Sydney, listen. He wants to get someone on the inside to see what the CIA knows, what moves that they make regarding SD-6."

"He wants me to join the CIA, and work as a double agent for _him_?" Maybe she was wrong about her life getting worse.

"No. He doesn't want any agents actually joining the CIA, because then they are likely to learn the truth about SD-6, and turn on him."

"That makes sense. So does he want you to join, since you already know?"

"Sydney, I was a CIA agent with Sloane before he went rogue, remember? He thinks I left, and the idea of me trying to rejoining is ridiculous!" 

"Then what? Just tell me damn it!"

He paused, looking a little reluctant. "He wants an agent to…become involved with a CIA agent. To gain their trust," he cleared his throat. She had never seen him so nervous. "Et cetera, and steal intel from them."

"That doesn't make any sense! It would require a massive amount of cover up for SD-6. It hardly seems worth it!"

"I know. It's a very risky move for Sloane, as well as for the agent who undertakes it. I couldn't talk him out of it though. It's very dangerous for us too. If someone working for SD-6 saw us at the CIA, or heard our names mentioned, our cover would be blown."

"And that's why you suggested me" she said. It wasn't even a question. She knew the answer.

"If there were any other way…"

"No, no, I totally understand. It makes perfect sense." She shook her head "just tell me about the mission."

Jack shook his head as well, then began. "Sloane would have you pretending to work at Credit Dauphin, like always. I'm supposed to find a CIA agent who is working on bringing down SD-6, and you would…" he cleared his throat again "become involved with him, gaining access to any information." 

"But since I work for the CIA, I'll give him fake information, not letting him know the CIA knows so much" she concluded, things clicking in her brain.

"Exactly." He looked slightly relieved she seemed to be taking this so well. 

"But Dad, Sloane assumes I don't know SD-6 isn't part of the CIA. How does he expect you to explain to me spying on someone I'm supposedly working for?" This was thoroughly confusing, and seemed like a very bad idea to her. 

"I'm to tell you this LA branch of the CIA you're spying on is actually a rouge group posing as the CIA."

"And he expects me to believe that?! I'm a spy for God's sake! He thinks I won't figure out the truth?" 

Her voice had raised significantly, and Jack gave he a warning look. "I know. It's the worst idea Sloane has ever had. But he thinks it will work. I tried my best to convince him otherwise, but he was hell bent on this." He shrugged "and really, we have nothing to lose by going along with it, along as we're very careful. It could actually come in handy by throwing SD-6 off with the fake information."

"I guess." She digested this. It still sounded crazy. "What does the CIA have to say about it?"

"They agree having you do it really isn't so terrible, again, as long as we are extremely careful. So they approve."

She ran her finger nervously around the rim of her water glass, staring intently at it. "So, who's…who did they choose to be my…partner?" She couldn't believe she was going along with this. This could be a long-term operation, and she knew it. All she could think about was Vaughn. Not that things were going particularly well with them. Trying to pretend she didn't want him every time she saw him was pure hell, but at least she knew he felt the same way. She didn't dare entertain the idea it could be him. She highly doubted the CIA would allow that. 

"Actually, they left it up to me to decide." He stared at her, waiting. 

Her heart skipped a beat. Her father would be choosing him? He liked Vaughn, or at least respected him. It seemed like a logical choice. They worked well together, were comfortable together. He was single. But, than, her father had always been worried they were getting too close, and it was affecting their work. She had to face the reality; he would never approve of Vaughn. She steadied her voice, and tried to act calm. "So, have you decided who it's going to be?"

"I have a few people in mind."

He's playing with me she thought. Why? But she kept her cool, asking "may I ask whom?'

He eyed her steadily. "I know you're thinking about Agent Vaughn."

Well of course I am! she wanted to scream, but instead began "we are friends, and we work well…"

"Sydney" he broke in "I may not be the worlds best father, but I can see how you feel about Vaughn. And I don't know him all that well, but I see the way he looks at you. The way he acts when you on a mission."

She felt herself blushing, and looked away. Composing herself, she looked back to meet his eye. "Like I've said all along, we're good friends. That's it." It had been true enough a few months ago, but it certainly wasn't today.

"Sydney, I'm not a fool. But you must understand whom ever it is you'll be working with; it could be long term thing. If it's with Agent Vaughn it could become very awkward for you. Sloane may want you to marry him long before the two of you are ready. Or, you could be ready to get married, but Sloane's not. It's not you decision. The same thing applies for starting a family. All your decisions are taken away from you, and that's going to be much harder to deal with if this becomes a real relationship. This may seem like the answer you've been waiting for, because we all know it can't happen for you any other way, but you must think about the future. What's going to happen five, ten years from now when you're happily married with a family and Sloane decides your job is done?"

"I know you're thinking about Mom."

"Of course I am!" he nearly shouted, but then his voice softened. "But I'm also thinking about me, and you. Think about what it was like for you when your mother left. For her, I'm not sure it was all too difficult to leave. It was just a job to her. But for you, if you were with Vaughn, it wouldn't be just a job. It will be the life you want. How easy will it be to walk away from that?"

No way that would be easy, but she just couldn't drop the idea until she knew for sure. "So you're saying it can't be Vaughn?"

"And I'm not saying things couldn't ever work out" he continued as if he hadn't heard her. "Sloane may want to keep this up forever. Or SD-6 could be obliterated by then. The point is we just don't know what could happen."

"So, what than? Is it Vaughn, or not?" This was killing her. He was allowing her just enough room to hope. She wanted to kick somebody.

"That's not up to me Sydney. That's up to you and Vaughn. I'm going to let you make this decision yourself because it's you life. You understand all the risks. You know there are risks you can't foresee." He eyed her meaningfully.

"Dad…" she gulped. The tears in her eyes slipped down her cheeks, and he reached his hand slowly across the table to grasp hers. 

"Go home and sleep on it. I'll arrange a meeting for you two tomorrow, and you can talk it over with him. Tell him how you feel, tell him the good, but most of all tell him the real dangers of doing this. Then decide together. But Sydney, you only have until tomorrow night to decide. If you decide it's not worth it, call me and I'll send someone else to meet you right away. If you decide on Vaughn, well, you mission starts tomorrow. You could leave with him if you like." He squeezed her hand. "I know this is the most difficult decision you have ever faced, but I know you'll make the right choice." He stood to leave, and she followed suit. She moved around the table and hugged him. Gingerly, he hugged back. 

Still crying she whispered "thank you." He held her for a moment more, then left, glancing backward only once. She sat back down heavily, signaling to the waiter. "I'm going to need a bottle of red wine."

It was four thirty before she left the restaurant, and she was definitely drunk. At that moment there was very little she did know, but she was sure she didn't want to go home. She signaled a cab, and without really knowing why, instructed the driver to take her to the warehouse. He looked a little reluctant, but eventually dropped her there. "Would you like me to wait miss?"

"Nah" she stumbled a little getting out of the car. "I'm a secret agent. I'll be okay."

"All right" the cabby chuckled, and drove away. 

It took her quite a while to get the door open, and wander into the maze of cartons. The door had just thudded shut behind her when it hit her. "Oh no" she managed to mumble before proceeding to throw up all over the floor.

***

He didn't know why he liked it here so much. His house was just as quiet, and a lot more comfortable. Maybe because it reminded him of her, but that wasn't saying much. Lately most things reminded him of her. He had been sitting in the near darkness for half an hour when he heard the banging on the door. He leapt off the chair where he had been sitting and stood perfectly still. Yes, there it was again. It sounded like someone was trying to break in. Grabbing his gun from his shoulder holster, he silently began moving towards the front of the warehouse. He was quite prepared to fight someone off, but he certainly was not prepared for the sight of Sydney Bristow kneeling on the floor in front of him. "Syd?" he gasped, quickly putting his gun away. He knelt down beside her. "Are you all right? Are you hurt?"

She blinked up at him with slightly glossy eyes. "Vaughn?" she mumbled " that you?"

"Sydney, what happened? Are you okay?" He looked at her a moment, then his eyebrows raised slowly. "Syd, are you drunk?" Slight amusement took the place of worry in his voice.

"Noooo" she glanced away, then back, grinning. "Maybe."

He helped her to her feet, and gently guided her to the middle of the warehouse, where she could sit down. "What happened?" He put his arm around her waist, steadying her.

"I had lunch with my Dad. I drank a whole bottle of wine, and then some tequila, but then I think they cut me off." She squinted her eyes, trying to remember. 

Uh-oh, he thought, this could be big trouble. "Your father? Did you tell him about us? What did he say?" 

"Vaughn" she said in a loud whisper, leaning closer to him. "Can I tell you asecret?" her words ran together slightly. 

"Yeah, Sydney. Anything."

"I think I'm going to be sick again. She was right, and he just made it out of the way.

"Okay Syd, you'll tell me about lunch tomorrow." He wiped her chin gently with his sleeve. She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his chest. "I'll call you a cab. I'd take you home myself, but Francie may be there, right?" She didn't answer. "On second thought…" he reached for his phone, and dialed the familiar number. It rang fifteen times before he was satisfied. "Okay, I will take you home. Come on." He eased her gently off the crate, and she leaned heavily on him. He led her through the boxes slowly, out into the cool early evening air.

"You smell so good" she breathed, and he had to smile. Drunk Syd wasn't so bad when she wasn't throwing up he thought as he helped her into his black Mercedes. She was asleep by the time he sat down behind the wheel. He gazed at her for a moment, worried. What could have happened at lunch to make her drink so much? He guessed he'd find out tomorrow, and started the car. 

It was quite an ordeal to get her out of the car and into the house. He felt bad for going through her purse for the keys, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

"Where are we?" she asked as he slowly moved her through the dim house. 

"We're at home baby. We're gonna get you into bed." They entered her bedroom, and he sat her gently on the bed. He glanced around for her pajamas, and saw his shirt draped over a chair. He couldn't believe she still had it, and smiled as he picked it up. She had lay back on the bed, and was sleeping again. "Come on, just a few more minutes" he coaxed her into a sitting position, and started to remove her clothes. 

"Vaughn, are you staying over?" she asked sleepily. "Cause, ya know, that was fun."

He was tempted, but knew he couldn't. "It was fun" he agreed, "but not tonight. It's not my style to take advantage of drunk girls."

"I'm not drunk." She was lying down again, her eyes closed. 

He smiled, and tucked the blankets around her. "Good night Sydney." She didn't reply, and her turned to leave. 

"Vaughn?" she called quietly.

He turned quickly back to her "yeah?'

"I want you to be my husband." She sighed, rolled over, and was once again asleep, leaving him standing silently in the doorway.

"I'd like that too" he whispered to himself. He turned off the lights as he left, locking the door behind him. 


	6. Full Circle

Full Circle

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! Her head exploded, and she swung at her alarm clock, sending it crashing to the floor. She lay on her stomach in bed, perfectly still, hoping that if she didn't move maybe she would just die. When it didn't happen she decided she might as well attempt to get up. She eased herself slowly into a sitting position, running a shaky hand over her face. She tried to remember the night before. Was she dreaming, or had he put her into bed? She thought a little harder, wincing slightly. Yes, she remembered now. The drinks, stumbling into the warehouse, being sick, him driving her home. Oh lord, she thought, he must think I'm a complete idiot. She desperately hoped she hadn't said anything to him about her mission. As she eased herself out of bed, she glanced down and was surprised to see she was wearing his shirt. She smiled, he must have put it on her. She turned on the shower, her eyes bugging out slightly in pain at the sound, and looked at herself in the mirror. God she looked horrible, and she had to meet him later. This was going to be the longest day of her life. 

Francie was already in the kitchen when Sydney entered, wearing sunglasses. "Coffee. Please." She sat down gently at the counter. 

"Wellllll. Look at you!" Francie grinned, handing her a mug. "Go out dancing with _coworkers_?" 

"Hardly." She took a sip of coffee. "I drank tequila, and an entire bottle of red wine. Alone. After lunch with my father. We really don't have much success in that department." Things had actually been getting much better with her father, but Francie didn't know that, and he was a good excuse in this case.

Francie sat down next to her. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No. It was just the usual. Talking about everything but _anything. _You know?"

"Aw, Syd, I'm sorry." She was silent a moment, then "today's Friday, now I have a date, but I could cancel, and we could go out…"

Sydney glanced at her over the top of the glasses.

"Or not. You know, we could stay in, rent a movie, have an alcohol free girls night. Wadda ya say?"

"Thank you Fran, but I'm fine. You have a good time." She paused, avoiding Francie's eyes "Actually, I'm going out to dinner with some people from work tonight."

"Realllly? People from work? Is HE going to be there?"

"I have no idea what your talking about." Sydney stood up, trying to hide her smile, and moved towards the door. 

Francie was laughing and called after her "so I shouldn't wait up than?"

"Good bye Francie." The door slammed shut, leaving Francie laughing in the kitchen.

***

Her father was waiting for her as she entered SD-6. "Morning" she said, trying hard not to sound like crap. 

"Sydney, we need to talk." Lightly grasping her elbow he guided her gently towards his office. As soon as the door was shut, he pulled out a signal disrupter. "I talked with Agent Vaughn this morning. He told me about your … encounter last night."

She rested her head in her palm, shaking it slightly. "Listen Dad, I DON'T want to talk about this. I was going to have one drink, then, well… I had more then one. Just drop it okay?" 

He ignored her. "Did you tell him anything? About _why_ you were upset?" 

"I don't think so" she said quickly "why, did he say anything to you?"

"No. He just sounded nervous. I suppose he's confused as to why you two are meeting so openly tonight. He was kept asking if you were all right."

"Oh." She felt so bad for him. He must be worried sick. She went to him, obviously very upset last night, and now he was told to meet her for dinner. "What time am I meeting him?"

"Six o'clock, at Uncle Louie's. 

"Uncle Louie's?" She rolled her eyes. "Dad, we ate there yesterday, plus I made a fool of myself after you left. Why do you like that place so much?" She thought she saw him smile, but then it was gone.

"Have you made up your mind, what you're going to say?"

"I guess. But I have no idea what _he' s_ going to say. This is killing me." She felt nauseous, and pressed her palms to her burning cheeks. 

"I know how difficult this must be. I'm sorry your life turned out this way. I wanted so much better for you."

Sydney was stunned. Where was this coming from? "It's not your fault Dad" she blinked back tears "you didn't bring me into this. You know, until now there was nothing I could do but live this crazy, horrible life. So that's what I did. I tried really hard not to think about it, to worry too much about changing it. But I did think about it. Thought about what I would do, if I could. And now I have the opportunity to actually DO something, to change EVERYTHING, and it terrifies me. Because when I thought about it, it was all in perfect, romantic, general terms. I never thought about it involving any risk." She felt a little hysterical, and realized she was shaking. "Does that make any sense?"

"Yes, I totally…" the signal disrupter beeped then, signaling their time was up.

She sighed "I'll call you later Dad." She turned to leave, but Jack caught her arm. 

"Good luck" was all he could say. 

She hugged him, quickly, then headed out into the office, her head a million miles away.

***

It was not hot in the restaurant, be he felt suffocated. He wiped his palms on his pant, and ran a hand through his hair for the thousandth time that night. He glanced at his watch. Six eleven, where was she? All he could thinks about was that this could be the last time he saw her. If she got a new handler, he would most likely be sent back to his old desk job. Man, he thought, you really screwed this up. He saw her then, entering the restaurant from across the room. She was wearing a tiny, very low cut red dress. What little breath he had left was suddenly gone, and he stood shakily at the maitre d' lead her towards him. Women only wore dresses like that to deliver really good news, or really bad news. She stopped in front o f him, and said nothing, simply gazed into his eyes. He thought he saw a flash of pain, but then her eyes were smiling again.

"Wow" he managed to whisper after a moment "you're beautiful." She blushed slightly, but didn't look away. He leaned in to kiss her cheek, but remembered where they were. "Are we…okay to do this?"

She smiled. "We're okay."

He quickly kissed her, then waited as she sat before he followed suit. "Syd, just tell me, what's going on? I'm going out of my mind."

"I know, but first I want to explain about last night."

"You don't have to explain."

"I know, but I just wanted to tell you I'm not usually like that." She smiled a little ruefully "at least not in front of people other than Francie and Will." She hid her face behind her hands "I'm so embarrassed." 

He reached out and gently removed her hands, holding them both in his. "Don't be. This is me. You don't have to act so strong all the time."

"Thank you." She glanced down at the table before adding nervously "so, did I say anything to stupid?" 

"No." He grinned. "Actually, you were pretty cute."

"Cute? I was throwing up!" The waiter came back then, bringing them menus and taking drink orders. 

Vaughn scanned the drink list. "Do you want wine?" he asked, glancing up. She rolled her eyes and he laughed. Turning to the waiter he said "okay, I'll just have a beer."

"And I'll have this strawberry thing." She pointed "there's no alcohol in that, right?"

"No alcohol ma'am." 

"Excellent." The waiter left, and they continued to study the menu.

"So, what do you want?" he asked her after a moment. 

"I'm getting the lobster. You should too. SD-6 is paying for this whole thing."

"SD-6?!" he almost shouted, and she gave him a sharp glance. "What the hell is this all about?" he asked, more quietly. "I thought you were going to tell me your dad changed his mind about you getting a new handler."

"No, actually, there's something I really need to talk to you…" the waiter returned then, silencing her. 

Vaughn practically threw the menus at him, and ordered quickly. "We'll both have the soup, and the lobster."

"All right Sir, it won't be very long." 

He left, and she began again. "A few days ago Sloane told my father he needed someone from SD-6 to get intel from the CIA, to see what they know, what their action plan is regarding SD-6."

"Is your cover blown?" His mind reeled. "Syd, we've got to get you out of…"

"Vaughn!" she said sharply, then her tone softened "Michael, that's not it. Just listen, let me finish before you say anything."

"All right, I'm sorry, go on." He rubbed his hand over his eyes.

"Sloane wants someone to get close to someone from the CIA and steal secrets, tap phones, whatever. Obviously this is not good for us, me, my father. So, the CIA, my father really, suggested I should be the one to do it."

"You?" He didn't understand.

"It makes sense. I can give all kinds of fabricated info to Sloane, and it will help us take them down quicker."

"This is absolutely ridiculous! It's so dangerous! I don't even know where to begin with this…" He was having a little trouble breathing. 

She took his hand and squeezed it. "I know that, but I also know I have to do this. I have no choice."

She stopped talking and sat, digesting this. 'Get close' what did that mean? He asked her.

"I'd have to…" she cleared her throat and avoided his eyes "date them, maybe for a long time. Build a life with them, maybe even have a family one day." She looked up, and even though what she had just dropped on him wasn't funny at all, she nearly laughed out loud. The expression on his face was priceless. 

"Oh, my God! Sydney… what… I don't…" He couldn't even begin to comprehend what he was hearing. He felt like he had been kicked in the stomach. This made things two hundred per cent worse for them. No wonder she had been drinking last night. He took a large gulp of his beer. "You're actually doing this?" he managed to ask. 

"Yes." She said reluctantly, nodding. "I have to. It's less dangerous for me than for any other innocent SD-6 agent. I'm already living a huge lie anyway."

"Yeah, I know, but for you… and me… I just can't believe things could actually get any harder for us." Now he understood the Bad News Dress. The waiter returned again with their food, and they fell silent. It seemed like forever until they were alone again. "So, who are they setting you up with for the rest of your life?" he asked bitterly. 

She looked down at her bowl, and swirled the soup with the spoon. "Actually, that's the reason you're here. I need to talk to you about that." She looked into his eyes, and he saw fear reflected there. 

"Talk to me? They're not making me pick somebody are they? Because, Sydney, I don't think…" 

"No. My father is the one who'll be choosing."

He was thoroughly confused. What did this have to do with him? "So, what than?"

She leaned back in her chair. "You know, _you_ work for the CIA." She eyed him, searching for something. Understanding, maybe. 

"Yes, I realize this." What was she getting at?

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head. "Don't you get it? My father knows about us. I didn't tell him anything, but he knows. When he told me about this mission, I obviously suggested you. He thinks it's a bad idea, but he's letting us make the decision."

He was dumb struck. Sydney's new mission could be to go out with him, maybe marry him? His heart swelled with joy, but when he grinned down at her she wasn't smiling. 

"What's wrong? You're telling me you dad would actually let me be _the guy, _let me do this, and you're not happy?"

She took a shaky breath. "There is nothing I would love more than to do this with you." She intertwined her fingers with his. "But it could be so hard for us. We wouldn't be in control of our lives…"

As she listed off all the potential problems they could face his heart sank. She was going to tell him it wasn't worth the risk, and he was going to loose her forever. "So that's it?" he interrupted her in mid sentence. "You're just giving up on us? Our one real chance to be together, and you're telling me it's not worth it?"

A look of slight confusion, delight and surprise played across her face. "You'd be willing to do this? I thought you would think it was too dangerous."

"Are you kidding me?" He wanted to laugh and throw up and lie down. "Of course I want to do it. I love you and I want to be with you." 

"You love me?" she asked softly, her eyes lighting up. 

"I love you more than life it self." He had wanted to tell her that for so long, and couldn't have imagined it any better.

"I love you Michael, I love you so much." Her eyes filled with tears.

He leaned across the table and kissed her, and she kissed him back. They broke apart, and she leaned back, laughing and crying at the same time. "Are we really going to do this?" she asked earnestly. "Are you sure? I don't want you to do this just because I want it so much, and than regret it later."

"I have never been so sure about anything in my whole life" he answered. "This could be incredibly hard, but we'll get through it. And we might even take down SD-6 before we even have to think about doing something we don't want to." He was elated, and unbelievably glad to see she was too. 

She beamed at him. "Thank you. Thank you for loving me this much. I was so afraid you would say no. That's why I was so upset yesterday."

"I'm sorry you were so worried. You had me terrified though. I was so sure I was being fired, that you dad had found out about us." He laughed "you can't imagine how surprised I was to see you stumble into that warehouse."

"Don't remind me! Listen, I know we covered this, but I want to thank you for bringing me home. You didn't have to do that, take care of me, and I really appreciate it."

"It was nice taking care of you, for once, in a situation that wasn't life threatening." He smiled. "I guess I can do that more often now."

"I hope so," she said softly. "Maybe I'll even get to take care of you."

"Hey, so when do we start this whole thing? Do I have to talk to the CIA, or what?" Being with her was so nice; he didn't want to have to wait to do it again. 

"Actually, we've already started. We have strategy meetings tomorrow, but tonight is technically our first date, I guess." She gave him a flirtatious look. 

"Seriously?" He looked ready to burst, and she smiled. "Ya know what…" he asked, turning and calling "waiter…" he turned back to her "I'm ordering us champagne." 

She grinned at him "you want me to think you're being very romantic, but I know you're really trying to get me liquored up again." 

"Me? Never!" he scoffed "why would I do that?" 

"You're hoping I'll come home with you on the first date" she said matter-of-factly. 

"Ouch! That hurt." He tried his best to look angry, but he just couldn't wipe the smile off his face. He was on a real date with Sydney Bristow. "Well" he whispered, rolling his eyes and leaning towards her "that may be true." 

She kissed his hand as it found hers. "I guess I'd better get drinking than." As if on cue, the waiter returned with their wine. Vaughn poured them each a glass. 

"I'd like to propose a toast" he said happily, raising his glass "to taking chances, and knowing it will all work out in the end."

"To taking chances," she said softly. They each took a sip of champagne, and she settled back into her chair, crossing her legs. "So, Michael, you said you last name was Vaughn, right? Is that French? 

"What?" She knew it was.

"This is our first date. We're supposed to be finding things out about each other."

"Ahhh," he said, catching on. If she wanted to play, that was fine by him. "Yeah, it's French. Actually, I was born in France…" 

They continued back and forth like this for the remainder of dinner, giddily telling each other things they already knew, and many things they didn't, with huge smiles on their faces. 

"I'm leaving an one hundred per cent tip' she giggled as she paid the bill. "Sd-6 will never notice, but it makes me feel good anyway." 

"You make me feel good." He was sure someone could have shot him right then, and he wouldn't have notice. She signed the bill quickly, and stood up. He followed her, and put his arm around her waist as they exited the restaurant. 

"You know, I was honestly going to send you home alone tonight, seeing as it is our first time meeting and all." He glanced down at her, mildly alarmed. She continued "but when you make comments like that, how's a girl to resist?" 

"I think we've waited long enough," he said, pulling her closer. 

"Oh yeah?" she poked him in the ribs "I got that impression from the footsies. You'd better be glad this wasn't a real first date, or I would have had to beat you up." 

"So" he said pausing on the sidewalk to kiss her forehead "your place or mine?" He couldn't believe this was really happening. 

"Mmmm, yours. Francie will probably be home; I'll call her and tell her I'm going on a business trip. She'll never believe me, but I can tell her about you in a few days. Plus" she added smugly "I want to see your bedroom." 

He opened the passenger door of his car for her. "You can see it any time you want." 

"I'm going to hold you to that."

He breathed deeply as he walked around to the driver's side. He knew they were taking a big risk with this, but for some reason it didn't scare him. Maybe that was the real mistake. But he didn't care. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't make this bad. 

She sighed contentedly as he sat down beside her. "I love you Michael Vaughn." 

'I love you Sydney. So much." They gazed at each other. The future may be uncertain, but tonight was not. He turned and started the car. "Let's get this show on the road." 

The End


	7. Epilogue: Froot Loops and Ferris Wheels

Epilogue: 

Froot Loops and Ferris Wheels

Even before she opened her eyes she threw her arm across the bed. She did it instinctively every morning, and she knew he did it too. In those first few moments between sleep and being full awake they had to make sure it wasn't all just a wonderful dream. Most mornings she awoke before his alarm, and he was right there beside her. But this morning her heart skipped a beat when she found she was alone in bed. Her eyes flew open, and she half sat up before she heard the shower. Relaxing, she lay back down. She smiled and ran her thumb over the cool metal of her wedding band, something she did quite often subconsciously. So it was true, he really was hers. She heard the shower stop, and smiled as she pictured him getting out. A moment later he appeared at the bathroom door, a towel around his waist.

"What are you doing?" he asked, concerned. "Are you feeling okay?" Most days she got up ten minutes after him, and quite often joined him in the shower. 

"Good morning to you too" she rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "I have a day off remember?" 

"Lucky." He moved beside the bed, and leaned over to kiss her. "Good morning." She smiled, and he ran his fingers through her tousled hair. "Go back to sleep than" he suggested. 

"Mmmm, good plan." She closed her eyes, but as soon as he moved away she opened them again. She watched as he rummaged through their closet, and pulled on a clean white shirt. He wore basically the same thing every day, but she couldn't get over how good he looked in it. She finally gave up on sleep, and stood as she saw him tying his tie. "Here, let me do it." 

He was perfectly capable of tying it himself, but was quite willing to have her do it. "So, this is where all my clean shirts go" he pulled lightly on the collar of one of his dress shirts that she was wearing, as she often did, to sleep in. 

"Your shirt? I believe I bought this shirt, and I wash it, and iron it." She wasn't complaining. Honestly, she loved all that domestic stuff. They both did. It was so normal. "I think I should be able to wear it whenever I want."

"Maybe I need it for work." He wasn't really complaining either. He loved it when she wore his clothes. "You don't see me wearing your work stuff do you?" Images of Vaughn in one of her "work outfits" filled both their minds, and they grinned. 

"Fine than, have it back" she unbuttoned the shirt seductively, and tossed it to him.

"Sydney" he groaned "I have to go to work."

"Oh, all right" she took a robe from the closet and pulled it on. "I'll make the coffee then."

"I can be late" he called after her hopefully, but she was already down the hall.

"You're late at least once a week" she replied quickly. It was true, but so was the fact that she was also late for work more often than she cared to admit recently. She glanced around the kitchen. It was the same house she had shared with Francie, but with Vaughn it was so much more of a home. She caught sight of their wedding picture on the fridge and smiled. She picked up the photo and studied it. Just a simple ceremony on the beach, with close family and friends. Her in a simple strapless A-line gown. Amy, with hair dyed a more natural blond, as a bridesmaid, and Francie as her Maid of Honor, both wore baby pink. They both looked beautiful. And Michael, looking absolutely gorgeous in his tux, smiling so it lit up his eyes. And Weiss, as best man, and Will as an user, and Donovan as "flower boy." All the people (and animals) she loved, looking so happy. 

Her smile widened as she thought about Vaughn and Will. From this picture you would never have guessed they had ever been anything but friends, but that certainly wasn't true. She remembered the first time they met, accidentally, early one morning a few weeks after that first date.

"Syd, where are those big yellow towels? They're not in the dryer" Vaughn called. Wearing only boxers and a smile, he walked from the laundry room into the living room, searching out Sydney. The last thing he expected to see was Will Tippin standing just inside the door, shoes half off. 

"Who the hell are you?! They shouted in unison, Will dropping his shoe. Neither got a chance to answer, however, before they heard Sydney from down the hall, oblivious to Will's presence. 

"Did you check the closet? I think Francie put them away. Michael…?" Her voice moved closer, and she appeared in the doorway, she herself wearing only a tiny t-shirt and panties. "Will!" she gasped when she saw him "what are you doing here?"

"Oh, God, " Will turned away, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I used my key. I Obviously…I should have knocked. Oh, God."

Vaughn gave Sydney an apologetic look. "I'm just gonna…" he gestured to his state of undress, and started down the hall. 

Sydney nodded squeezing his arm as he passed. "It's okay, Will, really." She was bright red. "Just give me a minute, and I'll be right out." She turned and followed Vaughn down the hall.

She has returned a few minutes later, Michael in tow, for an awkward introduction. "Michael" she said, her hand resting on his back, "this is my friend Will. Will, this is my… this is Michael."

"Nice to meet you Will," Michael said, holding out his hand. "Sydney has told me a lot about you" he said, smiling.

Will however, did not return the smile. Although he extended his hand as well, he eyed Vaughn suspiciously. "Funny, she's never mentioned you before."

Of course this information didn't surprise Vaughn. He knew who she had told about them. "Yes, I know. We work together, so we're trying to keep things kind of quiet."

Will looked a little deflated, so Sydney added "we've only been going out two weeks. I was going to introduce you soon." She and Vaughn had become lost in each others eyes, and had to be brought back to earth by Will.

"Wow, how nice for you."

She had watched as they stared, blatantly sizing each other up, and tried hard not to laugh. They both looked so wary and jealous. Things had been tense between the two men for a few weeks, but things eventually began to get better, a friendship forged based on their mutual love for her. When she and Michael announced their engagement about six months later Will was obviously shocked at how fast they were moving, but had seemed genuinely happy for them. 

She was still lost in the memories when Vaughn came up behind her, and grabbed her around the waist.

"Hey, you forgot it was our anniversary." 

She laughed "what, our five month anniversary?"

"Not our wedding anniversary" he corrected. "The anniversary of our first date."

She had to think about that for a moment. Had it really only been a year since then? Maybe it was because she didn't like to remember times they weren't together that that first date seemed so long ago. "Oh yeah, " she said wistfully "we were so happy. I can't believe I forgot that was today." She poked him playfully. "I can't believe you remembered." 

"Well, what can I say, I'm a good husband." He took her hand and twirled her around until she was facing him. He leaned in and kissed her. A long, slow, sweet kiss. 

When they broke apart she was a little weak at the knee. She sincerely hoped he would never loose the ability to do that. "So" she said, a little out of breath "what do you want for breakfast?" He sat at the table, and she handed him a cup of coffee.

"Guess" he replied, eyes sparkling. 

Of course she knew what he wanted. She poured two bowls of Froot Loops and sat down at the table. What seemed like a very long time ago he had promised her one day they would sit across from each other, eat Froot Loops, and plan their day. And here they were. Even though this little ritual had quickly become a routine for them, it was no less romantic then it had been the first time they had eaten breakfast together almost a year ago. 

"So" he began, like he always did "what are we going to do today?"

"I want to go back to bed."

"You should. You never have a day off." He took a sip of coffee, eyeing he over the rim of his mug.

"I meant with you." She felt a little bad for teasing him like that, but couldn't stop herself.

"Oh." He grinned like a schoolboy. "Hey, I did say I could be late."

"No. I'm sorry. I was just teasing. You have to go. I'll find some way to amuse myself." She gave a fake pout, then added "actually, I'm having brunch with Francie at ten forty-five. But then I have the whole afternoon alone."

"Poor baby." He finished his cereal, and drained the milk from the bowl. "How's this, I'll sneak out at one, and we'll do something."

"Really?" her eyes lit up. "How are you going to do that?" Then she shook her head "you know what, don't get in trouble Michael."

"Hey, I can take care of myself." His tone turned to mock seriousness "I'm a big boy. If I want to skip work to be with my wife, damn it, I'm going to do it." He reached across the table and pulled her from her seat into his lap. She shrieked, but didn't struggle out of his grasp. "So, one o'clock, you and me."

She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Hey, if you want to spend an afternoon with me that badly, I'm not going to try and stop you. Besides, I kind of like ya. But what are we going to do?"

He thought for a moment, then "I'm taking you to the Santa Monica Pier." 

"That's not bad," she said brightly, after a moment's consideration. "Okay, lets do it." This was shaping up to be a pretty good day. She slid off his lap and gently swatted his knee "now go!"

He stood, drained the last of his coffee and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Love you babe" he called over his shoulder as he opened the door "I'll be back at one."

And there he was, at twelve fifty-three with one of the most beautiful bouquets of lilies she had ever seen. The idea of leaving the house almost went out the window, but they regained control of themselves and decided they could do _that _anytime, and proceeded to drive the twenty-five minutes to the Santa Monica Pier. It was a beautiful October day, the intense heat of the summer had finally subsided, and the air was slightly cool near the ocean. She snuggled against him as they walked. After a few minutes of blissful silence, she gave a small laugh. 

"What?"

"Do you remember the first time we came here as a couple?"

He laughed then too "how could I forget?"

She continued the story "it was about a month after we started going out."

He broke in "and we thought it was time to try something other than Chinese take out and each other bedrooms for a date."  


"Hey now" she laughed "I remember having a pretty good time on your couch that first month."

"And let's not forget about your bathroom. Or kitchen."

"Or your car. Or my car."

"Okay, okay" he concede, laughing. "So we went somewhere other than the bedroom. Forgive me. Anyway" he said, kissing her temple "we decided to venture out of the house for the night."

"That was our first mistake."

"What? Mistake? I would never say mistake" he retorted.

"I would defiantly say mistake. You couldn't keep you hands off me!"

"Wait just a second!" he stopped walking "I seem to recall _you _not being able to keep _your_ hands off _me_!" 

She blushed slightly. "Well, no matter who started it, it was embarrassing! They had to stop the Ferris wheel and ask us to settle down like we were in the ninth grade!" 

"I don't know about you, but I can honestly say I never made out like that in the ninth grade." She was laughing hysterically, and could only shake her head. He continued "I mean maybe, MAYBE in senior year, but even then I doubt the sluttiest of slutty girls could kiss like that."

"Okay, okay" she gasped, pulling his arm around her shoulders "maybe it wasn't so bad. We made quite the grand entrance as a couple didn't we?" She stiffened then, as if realizing something, and turned to face him "did you just call me a slut?"

He eyed her wickedly "Is that such a bad thing?"

She slapped him on the chest "hey…!"

"Hey" he interrupted her, and pointed up. They were right underneath the Ferris wheel. "Wanna give it another go?"

"Are you sure you want to be seen with a slu-"

"Oh, come on." He pulled her into the short line.

The sun warmed her face as they sat in the little basket high above the ocean. She closed her eyes and lay her head on his shoulder. Last year it had been about finally being able to touch each other, look at each other in public. Now, however, it wasn't about the moment, it was about all the moments. Past, present, and future. It was then that she realized it really was going to be okay. Not because it 'just had to be', or because Michael said so when she cried. But because she could feel it. In the wind, the sunshine, her heart. She couldn't explain it, but she was more certain of it than anything. The road between here and forever was going to be rough, she knew, but it was the means to an end. She pictured them here at the Pier with their babies, with their grandchildren. A happy ending, a full circle. She was filled with such a rush of happiness that she had to let some out. "Mmmm" she sighed, eyes still closed. 

"What are you so happy about?" he whispered in her ear. 

"Life." She opened her eyes to meet his amazing green ones watching her. They smiled at each other. "What do you want for dinner?" Such a simple question, such a normal life.

"How 'bout a corn dog?" those eyes sparkled "and a Hot Fudge Sydney?"

"I can't believe you said that" she said shaking her head. "You're are such a dork!" she laughed.

"What? Hot Fudge Sydney? I believe _you_ made that up! "

"Stop it," she said sternly, turning red. 

"I like it" he persisted. "It's a great dessert. The perfect blend of chocolate and your belly button."

"All the major food groups." She couldn't help but laugh.

"The most important anyway."

"All right. For you, I'll do it. A Hot Fudge Sydney it is." She leaned in to kiss him, but he pulled away.

"Lets not start that again." He grinned devilishly. "At least not here. I can have you home in half an hour."

***

"This has been a good day" he whispered as they lay in bed that night.

"This has been a good year" she murmured, half asleep. She let her mind wander over how perfect her life had become in just the space of a year. But she couldn't help wonder what the next year might hold for them. She pushed it from her mind, and snuggled closer into him. Thinking of only how wonderful he smelled she let sleep overcome her. 

Fin

Okay, there you have it! So, what did you think? Please, please, please let me know. Any writers out there know how much it means to an author to receive feedback, even if it's just "hey, I liked it." So make my day and **REVIEW! **

I've been asked about a sequel, and I'm currently toying with a few ideas, but honestly the muse has been a little crabby of late, so it's up to you to convince her I should do it! So, convince me by **REVIEWING! **Thanks everybody!


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